


Recessional (Song Fic)

by orangefriday



Category: Smosh
Genre: Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:02:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangefriday/pseuds/orangefriday
Summary: The power goes out and there's nothing to do anymore but for Anthony and Ian, a moment of recess is all it takes for a million words to be spoken.
Relationships: Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song is [Recessional - Vienna Teng](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGKicxfFtsw)

It's strange to look at your best friend and want so much. Sometimes Anthony can't help himself but to smile at Ian. It's strange that it's comfortable to be so close and still feel the restraints scratching at his back to move away.

 _"It's so beautiful here,” he says, "this moment now."_  
_And_ _this moment,_ _now._   
_And I never thought I would find him here: flannel and satin, my four walls transformed._

At this moment, the rain blurs the outskirts of friends and lovers. As if when the sky waters, the boundaries become undone and everything and anything seem possible. Maybe it's the cold numbness that seeps into his fingertips and the only issue of warmth is from the body pressed familiar beside him. It's only a touch away.

 _But_ _he's looking at me, straight to center. No room at all for any other thought._

"Damnit, my mom’s place is out of power too,” Ian says. They’re sitting on the floor of Anthony’s bedroom in the darkness with only the rain and the moon’s fleeting light behind muted silver clouds. A quiet defeated sigh from Ian and Anthony wonders if their hearts beat in the same rhythm as their breaths go in and out at a constant easy motion. He wonders if Ian feels the skip of a beat as he glances over and smiles.

 _And I know I don't want this._  
_Oh,_ _I swear I don't want this._

“Don’t worry, man,” Anthony says softer than intended, trapped in racing thoughts and alluring intentions. “We’ll get everything done on time.”

Ian nods with listless eyes and slumps sideways, his head hovering dangerously over Anthony’s shoulder. He’s too close and Anthony again can feel the pressure to both mold and break from Ian.

_There's a reason not to want this but I forgot..._

And Anthony dares to move against Ian. Fabric covered shoulder against stubbled cheek. 

_In the terminal he sleeps on my shoulder, hair falling forward, mouth all askew._  
_Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead_  
_And he dreams through the noise, his weight against me, face pressed into the corduroy grooves._

It takes a few silent strangled breaths before Ian’s head goes heavy and Anthony looks down. 

_Maybe it means nothing..._  
_maybe it means nothing..._  
_maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move._

Ian’s waiting hand rests loosely on his thigh and Anthony wants to feel skin on skin more than the muffled electricity singeing his shoulder.

 _And the words, they're everything and nothing._  
_I_ _want to search for him in the offhand remarks._

“Ian?” he whispers, “Are you asleep?” Anthony’s fingers crawl with unmoved energy.

_Who are you, taking coffee, no sugar?_  
_Who are you, echoing street signs?_  
_Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover, dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?_

The quiet is disconcerting and Anthony fears the stillness will move into something dangerous. Ian looks different with his eyes and mouth lax and his hand falling ever so slightly so that Anthony’s knuckles burn when they touch.

“No.”

 _Oh_ _words, like rain, how sweet the sound..._

He doesn’t know who moves first but then their fingers weave together and Anthony’s breath is caught in his throat. He grips tight and turns towards the head that rests comfortably on him.

“Ian?” he asks again. Ian shifts so that his lips sting the bottom of Anthony’s neck. His skin goes on fire when warm agonizing breath slides down Anthony’s spine.

“Yeah?” Ian’s words feel like a kiss in the wrong place.

Anthony wants to move down so that their mouths align. He wants to inch forward and press his lips to Ian’s. He wants to feel the soft leaping and coiling of flames as they go heavily into one another. He wants hands to smooth over hot fervent skin and breaths to inhale deep and shaky.

He wants it all but it’s frightening so Anthony asks with an uneasy smile in his voice, “What are you doing?”

There’s a change of direction in the air and a tension that strikes hard throughout Ian’s body. Anthony’s shoulder is abandoned too fast and his hand loses its grasp.

Ian stands in front of him, with sea coloured eyes that look dejected and lost.

 _"Well_ _anyway,"_ Ian says, “It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	2. Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian misses the signs to move away and stay away; mistaking them for something he wishes to be true.

Ian stands up, his heart hammering heat and loud against his ears.   
  
Sometimes he’ll lose himself. He’ll wade in deep waters so soft like downy that when he drowns, he doesn’t feel the imminent panic or the voice that whispers death. He misses the signs to move away and stay away; mistaking them for something he wishes to be true.  
  
Anthony is on the floor with a smile loose on his lips, slipping away into an awkward and questioning look. Ian wonders if he has gone too far this time.  
  
“Well anyway,” Ian says, fingers itching and he wishes the moment had lasted longer, “It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
There’s a sizzling underneath the skin of his cheek; molten liquid fire slowly seeping into his bones and through his blood. It’s uncomfortable and strange but Ian would give anything to have it moving in him if only for a little while more.  
  
He knows he has crossed the line, stepped on it without knowing. To Ian, this line could devour him in one swift motion and each time when the tip of his toe nudges it, he recoils in fear it would strangle him and never let him go. But tonight, with the light pattering of blue rain and the darkness of the situation, it was quiet and unclear and he had walked right over it without a sound or a single rational thought.  
  
And Ian is definite that he has gone too far as he scrunches his eyes shut, turning around to leave. Jumping over it again would be a testament to his luck.  
  
Then a hand on his wrist and the lick of fiery energy blooms there like untouched wild grass.  
  
“Wait, Ian.”  
  
He doesn’t turn around but his mouth opens slightly, sucking in a breath that revels in this touch where skin is against skin.  
  
“What?” he says quiet and it’s loud in a room so full of silence.  
  
No words. Just air traveling through mouth and lungs. Hot breath whistles on the back of his neck and his knees quiver.  
  
The line dissipates again, letting friends and lovers intertwine as Anthony’s lips sear the edge of Ian’s ear.  
  
Unwritten social protocol forms a question on his tongue but it’s knocked to back of his mind when Ian feels hesitant fingers spinning him around.  
  
They stare at each other with gazes asking so much. Anthony is so close, his dark eyes glow with tiny flecks of gold strewn around irises like undiscovered treasure. Ian is in awe at the beauty of his friend.  
  
He doesn’t want to think or argue when Anthony covers the corner of Ian’s lips with his own. The contact sending a flurry of electricity in him. He only looks down, leaning his chin upwards to press further, pulled in by the inexplicable allure that comes from a forbidden feeling.  
  
“You want this,” Anthony whispers, breath caressing Ian’s pulsating lips. It’s not a question.  
  
They share breaths for a moment, each wary of the other. Each wondering if it was okay and realizing whatever had stopped them before, didn’t matter anymore. So Ian presses his lips to Anthony’s, body crawling with a million points of sharp and overwhelming emotion.   
  
The kiss is slow, meant to start off with caution but the want and need takes over and it turns into a sort of battle to get closer, to touch and to feel more. Ian pants with hunger and Anthony moans low in to Ian’s mouth when he slides a hand down the arch of his back.  
  
Ian had thought of his moment many times and never had he anticipated it to feel this unbelievable. His mind would wander off in its own accord and he would spin with vivid images and dazzling sensations as he touched himself in bed, in the shower or even when their shoulders would bump together, igniting a sensitive fuse full of potential to burn sweet flesh to black.  
  
He took in the scent of Anthony; sugar mint and wet sand. Ian doesn’t want to smell or feel anything else as sweetness sizzles down his neck.  
  
But then the lights flicker on, the whir of machinery loud and present. And they break apart suddenly as if being illuminated had made the moment dangerous. The reality of the situation catches up to them and Ian’s cheeks fill with rose red. Anthony lets go of his hand and steps back reluctantly as their fingers fall away.  
  
He scratches the back of his heated neck, looking down and avoiding Anthony’s eyes. The air is thick and the confusion and panic appearing again in the forefront of his mind.  
  
Yet the dividing line is no where in sight and he bites his lip, hoping this meant _something_.  
  
Anthony clears his throat awkwardly and thrusts his hands in his pockets.  
  
“Er...” Ian fumbles with his words but he eventually says them out, pathetically, “Do you think it’s too late for a burger?”  
  
A terse silence hovers but then is broken by Anthony’s loud and sudden laughter. He shakes his head, the momentary tension around them disappearing when he takes Ian’s hand in his own warm one. The rough feel brings excitement spinning inside Ian’s chest and Anthony smiles warmly at him, leaning in close.  
  
“Only you would be hungry at a time like this.” Ian misses the signs to move away and stay away; mistaking them for something he wishes to be true.


End file.
